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Thu, May 4th, 2023

May 3, 2023

The beautiful poem in this blog is by Heidi Harris, one of my Riverbend sisters. Her father, Brother David Cowart, brought the message at church several days ago, and Heidi posted this poem she had written on FaceBook. It touched me deeply because she stated…”I can’t tell you when I wrote it because I don’t 100% remember but while listening to my Dad teach tonight this came to mind so I thought I’d share.” As I read her poem, I too was moved by how she has so
beautifully captured the work of the Potter on each of His vessels. But even more meaningful was the thought of the legacy of one generation to the next. As she listened to her father bring a powerful message of how the Father works in and through His children, she recalls words spilled from her heart to the paper…..now was this simply her creative ability….or is it the demonstration of one generation’s influence and impartation to the next?? You decide. Thank you, Heidi, for allowing me to share your words.

The Vessel by Heidi Harris

The nail scarred hands of the Potter
Mold the dusty clay
Into a vessel to be used
Worthy to bear His name

He pounds and He presses
Almost more than the clay can take
For just one impurity
And in the fire, it will break

Slowly He starts to shape it
Into the vessel it’s meant to be
Useful to its master
And full of pure beauty

But now the clay must harden
Before more shaping can take place
The clay is set on a shelf
Away from its master’s embrace

Finally, the Master returns
To finish the work He began

The clay must rejoice
To feel its Master’s hands again

I’m sure the rejoicing ends
When the Potter begins to carve
Beautiful intricate designs
That to the clay feels like scars

During this fragile stage
The vessel can easily break
But the Potter understands this
So, such delicate care He takes

At last, it must be over!
That’s how the clay feels
Then it starts to feel the fire
As the master puts it in the kiln

The vessel must be fired
So its fragility is no more
In order for the beautiful glaze
To seep into its pores

After the firing is over
The Potter brushes it with glaze
He makes it beautiful and smooth
It feels special under His gaze

“I must be finished now
There is no more the Potter can do"
As it feels the heat from the kiln again
The vessel knows this isn’t true

It must face the fire again
But this time it knows
That it will survive through it
And come out with a glow

The Potter removes the vessel
It emerges from the fire pure white

As He holds it up, He sees
His reflection in the light

Then He turns it over
And marks the work as His own
The vessel is finally finished
Its true beauty is shown

He sets it on the table
Next to a mound of fresh clay
It hasn’t yet been processed
It’s waiting to be made

The new clay asks the vessel
“Didn’t those designs hurt?”
“Didn’t that fire burn you?”
“How much are you even worth?”

The vessel says “I’m priceless”
For I am not for sale
I was molded for His purpose
And He will mold you as well

Don’t be scared of the process
Go through it faithfully
For in the end, you’ll reflect His image
And Himself in you He’ll see

Jane Pfefferkorn